


Heartbeats

by Opftw27



Category: Inkheart
Genre: Gen, Introspection, Parental!Dustfinger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 01:29:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opftw27/pseuds/Opftw27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Returning to life, Dustfinger reflected, changed one's perspective on many things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Circulation

**Author's Note:**

> This is... Well, I tried...

AN/ Hello, this is my first Inkheart fic. I'm planning around three chapters.

This is entirely pointless introspection into Dustfinger.

Something I'd like to get out of the way: Farid is not a perfect character, nor do I view him as such. He's sexist, selfish, and inconsiderate. But in light of his upbringing, these traits are quite understandable. So I LIKE him, but that's as far as it goes. There will be no fawning over his character here. Fangirls warned.

Dustfinger had never really taken time to appreciate the experience of blood running through his veins before. Until now. Now he felt the rushing and the longer he remained still the more he noticed the tremors that ran through his body with every pulse of the muscle at the core of his being. His heart was like fire, whimsical and needy.

He felt as if he should be panicking: waking up was almost alien to him. It was as if he was experiencing everything for the first time.

To him, moving from where he had rested for the night was almost a shame, as if he were breaking a solemn spell. Maybe he was. He had been dead after all.

First he knew he had to face Roxane. His heart, broken as it had been, was at least partially restored, and he could feel himself wishing to see his wife. He knew that there was truly no way to make anything up to her, for his promise to never leave her again had not been kept.

He had been dead. How long had he feared death? His entire life, he reflected. Now that he had faced his worse fear, what could daunt him? He could no longer indulge in cowardice. Since his return, no; since his marriage, he had been hiding from his responsibilities. No more running.

He did not deserve her. This was what Dustfinger decided when Roxane forgave him. Again.

When Brianna arrived at the farm, he attempted to speak with her. He was far more excepting of his mortality now, and he could not bear any thought of dying before making amends with his only remaining daughter.

She wouldn't hear a word from her father, but he thought her gaze strayed towards him in ways that weren't always hostile.

The night of Brianna's arrival, he sat down to eat one of Roxane's painstakingly made meals, when a thought sprang into his head. Where was Farid?

He had honestly not spared the boy much of a thought on his journey home. He had felt a well of relief in his heart knowing the boy was alive. But he hadn't truly thought of the implications before. He knew the child was devoted to him. He knew how it felt to awaken to the world after death, but Dustfinger had risen knowing that his loved ones were safe. Farid, who was so afraid of the supernatural, returning from the grave to find that his father-figure had sacrificed himself for him… What had become of the boy?

His swift inquires did not surprise his wife, in fact, he suspected that she was surprised that he had not yet asked. Brianna shifted in her seat and looked nervous.

He looked more directly at her and said, "Brianna, do you know what has become of him?"

Brianna looked down. "There is a man named Orpheus, who Farid works for now."

"Orpheus?" Dustfinger pondered this. The man was in his world now? He had claimed that it was impossible to read himself into a book. Perhaps he had acquired the talent? Or maybe someone else had read him here…

Even so, if memory served, Farid had hated the man. What had he called him? Cheeseface, that was it. Why would he work for such a man now?

"How do you know this, Brianna?" asked Dustfinger.

Brianna looked distinctly ashamed. Roxane answered for her. "She has worked for the man herself."

Dustfinger wondered, but did not inquire. He hardly had a right to his daughter's affairs now.

"I…" Brianna trailed off. Gaining a determined look, she said, "He seemed to think the man could bring you back to life. That's… apparently not so far-fetched as I thought." She looked uncomfortable as she said this.

"Ah," Dustfinger ventured. So that was it.

"But I came here because of him!" Brianna suddenly said. "Orpheus has tied Farid up and says he'll kill him."

Dustfinger studied his daughter, his countenance darkening. He was fairly sure that she had been undecided on whether to impart this information until this conversation. No matter; she had told him, and now he knew.

Dustfinger sighed and looked at his wife, and the acceptance in her eyes pierced his heart. "I'm afraid I have to leave you again, my love."


	2. Decantation

AN/ Rating has been moved up for swear words. You are cautioned, but if you've read the books this fanfic is based on, you can hardly be offended…

Brianna insisted on coming. Dustfinger worried about her slowing him down, but she was determined to prove that she was not as fragile as he thought. They made good time on their way to Ombra. And besides, she knew where Orpheus' house was located in the city. While he'd have preferred for Brianna to simply give directions, it gave her a material reason to come.

Dustfinger was not sure why she even wanted to come; he was saving Farid, who, as far as he could tell, Brianna did not particularly like.

When he inquired on this topic to her, Brianna rolled her lovely eyes and replied that she would dearly like to see any harm befall Orpheus and didn't care either way about the boy. And that was the end of that conversation.

The martens both tagged along. They had been so obviously pleased that he had returned from the grave that it was quite flattering.

Although Dustfinger was worried, he did believe that his time in the realm of the dead had changed him. There was a strange calm inside of him that seemed to not be affected by life's whims and trials. And as he hurried across the countryside, against every bit of common sense that he had, he felt peaceful. He didn't know why, but something in his heart told that everything would turn out alright.

He might have previously felt a fool for allowing such sentiments, but he really was a changed man. It was almost as if passing through death was akin to a furnace of the soul. As if a sort of crucible had been used on his soul and all his inner fears, inhibitions, and selfishness had been melted out of him, leaving only the best of him.

But if Dustfinger no longer had to worry, what was the sudden anxiety that filled him? He was slightly concerned that he was driving Brianna too hard, but anger was suddenly powering his strides. His thoughts had turned from his own transformation to dwell on what had happened to the boy in his absence. He hadn't taken the time to wonder about what Farid had been doing for… however long Dustfinger had been gone.

He had a fair inkling at the distraught state Farid must have been in to be willing to work for Orpheus. And Dustfinger was sure that the man had been more than willing to abuse the power he held over the boy.

If that bastard has hurt on head on the boy's head…This traitorous thought was immediately squelched, because Dustfinger no longer had to worry.

They reached the streets of Ombra by sunset of the day they had set out. They reached the house and Dustfinger attempted to get in, but the door was locked.

He was about to run around to the back- he would burn the place down if he had to!- when Brianna produced a key.

He flashed her a charming smile, and she blanched and header into the mansion ahead of him. A maid approached Brianna and he slunk into the shadows.

From the dialogue, Dustfinger gathered that Brianna was not supposed to be here. The other girl seemed to be a friend but hurried away after a hushed conversation.

Brianna led him to a room that appeared to be a study of sorts, although it looked as if it was housed by a pig.

She picked up a small rosy Glassman from the table that stood in the center of the room. It seemed that it had been sleeping, for it made a small shriek that awoke the other glass man who was next to him.

Brianna attempted to quiet the Glassman and said, "Jasper, it's me, Brianna. Where's Farid?"

"Oh, it's just you." Gwin hissed at the Glassman and looked as if he wanted to hunt, but Dustfinger pushed him off the desk. Jasper glanced at him. "Who's this?"

"This is the Firedanser," replied Brianna. Jasper started to say something, but Dustfinger cut him off. "There will be plenty of time for that later, little one. Where is Farid?"

The little glass man gasped and became focused. The other glass man who was present began to yell at the top of his lungs, and was subsequently ignored.

After the exceedingly shy Jasper offered to show Dustfinger the way, Brianna left to return to the farm with barely a word to her father.

Jasper showed Dustfinger the way to the cellar and he opened the door, happy that he no longer had to pretend that he wasn't worried.


	3. Scotopic

Dustfinger made his way down the stairs silently. It was very dark in the room, and although his sight seemed to be enhanced since his return from the dead, he could still barely see in the gloom of the cellar.

The martens, unimpaired by the darkness, scampered forwards. Dustfinger let a smile to spread across his face. They were excited to see their friend, as was he.

The cellar was remarkably large, and he felt a surge of irritation. The slimy man certainly had been making a living in Dustfinger's world. He grinned even wider and decided to make his presence known saying, "By all the fairies, that moonfaced fellow really has been making money. What a grand house!"

He let a flame spring up, and another and another. The usual feeling of ecstasy from playing with fire welled up in his chest. Jasper stirred on his arm, slightly uneasy, but Dustfinger kept them from so much as warming the glass man. Jasper smiled at Dustfinger's concern.

The dim light allowed him to see across the room. Farid was tied to one of the columns that supported the ceiling.

His first feeling was relief; he wasn't dead, not even injured. Then anger followed. He was bruised rather badly and seemed even skinnier than when he had last seen him. There was also the guilt that had been lagging in the back of his mind. The boy had done all this for him, after all.

As ever, Dustfinger permitted none of his emotions to show on his face. The boy respected him and did not need any pity at the moment.

The look of rapture on the boy's face made Dustfinger's grin almost turn into a smirk. He turned to face Farid more fully and the boy said, "Your scars- they're gone!"

The martens proceeded to dote on Farid, especially Jink. "Yes, and would you believe it- I think Roxane misses them." He made his way over to Farid with the flames following and knelt down to inspect the knots. It appeared the boy had done everything in his power to escape. There were bite marks and frays on the rope. Dustfinger felt a surge of pride at the boy's struggles, and a matching surge of anger at his captors. He understood how it must have been; when Orpheus realized that he could no longer control Farid, he had tossed him aside like a broken sandal.

He put his thoughts aside and pulled out his knife. There were faint sounds coming from the upper floors. He cut through the bonds quickly, commenting, "Hear that? I'm afraid Orpheus is about to find out he had a visitor."

The boy rubbed his wrists, looking like the child he still was. Farid's stare began to unsettle him. He felt as if he were being scrutinized. The boy had always been attached to him, but he remembered the boy's fear of ghosts. Did that fear extend to him?

The boy stretched his hand forth and touched Dustfinger's face. This encouraged him, but the touch was hesitant. He genuinely laughed to brighten the mood and took Farid's hand and lifted him to his feet. "What is it? Do you want to make sure I'm not a ghost? I expect you're still afraid of them, aren't you? Suppose I was a ghost?"

Dustfinger was surprised and pleased when the boy answered with a violent hug. His pleasure was interrupted when the poor glass man was so jostled that he fell off his shoulder. Dustfinger's quick reflexes saved the poor thing, and he handed Jasper to the boy.

As they spoke of how Dustfinger had learned of Farid's imprisonment, Dustfinger studied the boy. He decided that he did not seem to badly off and would likely recover soon. He was sure that Farid had not a thought for himself, and would be perfectly content as long as he was sure of Dustfinger's own safety.

He was very amused at the boy's surprise at the fact that Brianna had helped him. He was getting ready to shoo the boy to the exit when Orpheus lumbered down the stairs.

Dustfinger hardly put any effort into his verbal sparring with the oily man. He managed to coerce the man into handing the book over and gave all the credit to Slivertongue for his resurrection. He could barely contain his anger towards the man and his shifty accomplice, but this was no place to lose his temper.

At least, he had decided against losing his temper until Dustfinger ordered Farid to fetch the man's scribblings and Orpheus threatened the boy. Dustfinger couldn't contain his wrath as he said, "Take care with your threats, Orpheus. If anything ever happens to the boy, or if he suddenly disappears- the fate you clearly intended for him this time- then I'll come visit you again. And as you know, I never go anywhere without fire." He could not help a smile of victory from spreading over his face as he said this. He was far better at being intimidating than Orpheas.

After the boy's departure, Dustfinger saw no reason to remain. He made his way up the stairs, letting his revenge be releasing flames on the stairs to prevent their exit. He ignored the screams and met Farid at the door.

They left the house and walked away without looking back. They spoke some on their travels, but Dustfinger was content to let silence reign and simply listen to the boy's heartbeats, proof that both he and Farid were alive.

The End.


End file.
